


Ain't you my baby?

by Gandalfgirl579



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Fingering, i love them both so much, in which harrow is a bratty bottom, in which ianthe is a bratty top, post gtn, pre htn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29241933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gandalfgirl579/pseuds/Gandalfgirl579
Summary: In a voice less a purr than a snarl, Ianthe said, "Hold still."It was easier said than done, with Ianthe's golden, skeletal fingers buried in her pussy, and Harrow grit her teeth to hold back a moan, hissing, low and deadly, "Do nottell me what to do, Third."Harrow x Ianthe smut featuring fingering with Ianthe's glorious golden hand.
Relationships: Harrowhark Nonagesimus/Ianthe Tridentarius
Comments: 11
Kudos: 42





	Ain't you my baby?

In a voice less a purr than a snarl, Ianthe said, "Hold still."

It was easier said than done, with Ianthe's golden, skeletal fingers buried in her pussy, and Harrow grit her teeth to hold back a moan, hissing, low and deadly, " _Do not_ tell me what to do, Third."

"Or what?" Ianthe curled her pretty lips, then curled her skeletal fingers, a wicked little grin crossing her face when Harrow tossed her head back against the pillows. "You'll leave?" She thrust her fingers deep, her flesh hand on Harrow's hip, holding her down with bruising force.

Harrow didn't mind. She wore the bruises like a badge of honor. "Maybe I will," she spat.

She wouldn't, Ianthe knew. She played at Ninth propriety, but Harrow was as insatiable as Ianthe was. Ianthe adored it. "You won't." Her golden thumb slid over Harrow's clit, soft and teasing and cool to the touch. Harrow's bony hips jerked in response, her skinny arms reaching up to clutch at the pillow. Ianthe cooed, "You need me."

"There's nothing you could do for me," Harrow panted, her face paint smeared from sweat, her dark, dark eyes squeezed shut, "that I couldn't do for myself."

Ianthe doubted that, and she dipped her head to nip at Harrow's inner thigh, laughing and pulling away before Harrow could grab her hair and retaliate.

Harrow settled for rolling her hips against Ianthe's hand and demanding, "How long are you going to keep me waiting, Third?"

Putting on a pretty pout, Ianthe was quick to shoot back, "How long are you going to keep me waiting before you ask nicely, Harry?"

Harrow's eyes, blacker than anything, rolled, and her sharp little mouth bit out, "When have I ever asked nicely?"

She was right, and she knew it. Ianthe wanted desperately to kiss that smug look away, but she settled for digging the fingers of her flesh hand into Harrow's thigh, saying, in true princess fashion, "You're going to start now."

Propping up on her elbows, Harrow raised a brow, panting, "Is that so?"

Ianthe nipped at the soft, pale skin of Harrow's inner thigh, and Harrow shuddered hard. It was a warning. Ianthe had no problem with taking a bite out of her, and she knew it. "It is!" she crooned. 

Very carefully, as if handling a frightened animal, Harrow reached down to push Ianthe's cornsilk hair away from her eyes. Her voice soft as ash, she breathed, " _Or what_?"

"Or I could just leave you here with nothing but your own fingers to keep you company," Ianthe said, as if the suggestion wouldn't leave her high and dry, too. Her fingers were, at least, more interesting than Harrow's. 

"You wouldn't." Still moving slowly, sinuously, almost snake-like, grinding herself down against Ianthe's hand, Harrow sat up, grabbing at Ianthe's jaw to guide her up from between her legs for a kiss. Her lips brushing Ianthe's with every word, Harrow purred in a voice like stone grating stone, "You want me too much to just leave."

"Maybe I do." Ianthe slid a third golden finger into Harrow, and Harrow gave a pretty keening sound in reply. "But I'm a Lyctor now, Harry," Ianthe said, her thumb circling Harrow's clit hard enough to make her squirm, "and you will show me some respect."

"I'm a Lyctor, too." Harrow gave Ianthe's kiss-bruised lower lip a sharp nip, holding it between her teeth before she whispered, low and soft, "If you want respect, you'll have to earn it."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into this fandom, and I hope it's not too bad! But I saw fanart of Ianthe's hand and I literally could not resist! 
> 
> As always, I must mention that I go by [Zoya-inthesnow](http://Zoya-inthesnow.tumblr.com/) over on Tumblr, and I'm totally open to taking questions and comments there! :) Hit me up!


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